


Wing Kink

by mansikka



Series: Wings [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Smut, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean watches the way Cas’ wings shiver and smiles, spreading his palms a little wider as he strokes down the flank of his feathers. Cas is kneeled above him not quite straddling, curving his wings in a little towards Dean as though he is embracing him.</p><p>“Been studying, Cas,” he says softly, smiling wider as Cas’ eyes shoot up from where he’s watching Dean’s hands. Dean nods in confirmation and moves to stroke his hands along the length of Cas’ feathers in the way he’s come to show that he wants Cas to fan them out for him.</p><p>Cas does that willingly, his face nothing but affection and still new delight that Dean would love this part of him so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wing Kink

Dean watches the way Cas’ wings shiver and smiles, spreading his palms a little wider as he strokes down the flank of his feathers. Cas is kneeled above him not quite straddling, curving his wings in a little towards Dean as though he is embracing him.

“Been studying, Cas,” he says softly, smiling wider as Cas’ eyes shoot up from where he’s watching Dean’s hands. Dean nods in confirmation and moves to stroke his hands along the length of Cas’ feathers in the way he’s come to show that he wants Cas to fan them out for him.

Cas does that willingly, his face nothing but affection and still new delight that Dean would love this part of him so much.

Dean takes a moment to enjoy the image that makes, hands briefly curling around Cas’ thighs.

“These,” Dean says, raising his hands again to press his fingertips behind Cas’ shoulders and stroke down the length of feathers closest to his body, “are the scapula.” Dean’s eyes are riveted to Cas’ face as he lets out a soft huff of pleasure at Dean’s touch.

“This section here,” Dean continues, kneeling up himself so that he can reach out about halfway along the length of Cas’ wings and rests the side of his palm there at each side, “Are the secondaries.” Dean gently grips around the arch of Cas’ left wing and nudges it down a little as he pulls it towards him.

“Marginals,” he starts, then shakes his head. “No. These,” he says again, stroking the palm of his hand across the flat of the top third of his wing, “are the marginal coverts,” Dean’s grin answers Cas’ own, and he carries on. “And these,” hand now stroking back the other way across the midsection of the wing, “are the secondary coverts. These here,” finished with his fingers ruffling those feathers at the edge there, “these are the secondaries.”

Dean laughs a little at himself, shaking his head. “It’s just like learning the parts of an engine. Gotta get my hands in and touch it for it to make sense to me,” and he looks up, winking at Cas with another grin.

Before Cas can say anything in reaction, Dean is nudging his right wing closer and tilting his head, mumbling the terminology over again as he presses kisses into the same areas on that wing. When he’s done, he returns to the middle of the wing and blows lightly, nuzzling his face there as Cas lets out a soft groan.

“I read somewhere about these parts being particularly sensitive… something to do with airflow. I don’t remember exactly,” he says with a smirk before blowing there again, “I get the feeling you like this though,” he remarks as Cas groans softly again, and Dean pulls back to catch the blissed out expression on Cas’ face.

“So where were we,” he says after a minute, shifting a little again. “Here,” with his fingers playing along the edge of the feathers at the bottom of Cas’ left wing, “are the primaries,” he bends to kiss the tip of each one individually, smirking at the way Cas’ whole wing vibrates.

“These,” with kisses to the outward centre of the wing, “the primary coverts,” Cas starts nodding frantically as Dean moves closer to kiss each one of those as well.

“And this area here,” Dean says, and there’s something in his voice like glee as he hears Cas gasp out a little at where Dean’s headed next. “This is the alula. I hear that’s pretty sensitive as well,”

Cas’ choked stutter confirms that the second Dean’s lips brush across the entire surface there, and Dean swears his wings are actually humming at him.

By the time Dean’s paid the same loving attention to Cas’ right wing, Cas is trembling, and Dean pulls him to sit properly on his lap to stop him from falling.

Pausing briefly to lean up for a kiss, Dean runs his hands down Cas’ bare chest, making light work of unbuckling his belt and pulling down his fly. He smiles against Cas’ lips before he looks down to watch Cas spring free as he pulls down his boxers, and is more than a little pleased to see how much Cas is enjoying what he’s doing to him.

Ducking down awkwardly and holding Cas up by the waist a little, Dean takes the head of Cas’ cock into his mouth, tongue swirling away the precum there and holding on tight as Cas thrusts up with a whimper.

Dean pulls off him slowly before leaning down to lick over his head once more, and straightens himself back up. “Sorry,” he apologises with another wink and another kiss, “Couldn’t resist. Now. Where was I?”

Cas doesn’t seem able to speak at all by this point, which makes Dean feel very proud of himself.

Paying particular attention to one feather, Dean presses and trails his nose up along the spine there. “This is the… rachis. Or shaft,” which he smirks at as he presses a kiss towards the quill end of the feather. “This is the vane,” he says, nudging at the outer part of it, “And these bits here,” he says, nosing along the shorter lengths, “are the barbs. Kinda soft for barbs, Cas,” he teases, raising his head to smile at him.

Cas is still rendered speechless, and staring.

Leaning in again to kiss his shoulder, Dean starts a trail of kisses along the edge of Cas’ wing, naming each part there with a soft mumble. He swallows, whispers, _terminal phalanx_ as though it is some kind of dirty secret, then presses his full face back against the alula, feeling every part of Cas vibrate as he does.

By the time Dean’s repeated this on Cas’ other wing, Cas is a whimpering mess. His hands are fluttering and fumbling against Dean’s own jeans, but he’s trembling so much he can’t grip anything at all. Dean takes his hands away and holds them flat against Cas’ lap, nuzzling into his neck.

“Nope,” he whispers there, biting down softly. “Not finished with you yet,” which just makes Cas shiver a little more, and Dean feels him swallowing awkwardly against his lips.

“Stand up for me?” he asks, holding out supportive hands as Cas shuffles back and off the bed.

Dean stands up with him, first helping him out of his jeans and boxers and then quickly removing his own, smiling at the way Cas’ eyes fall immediately to his own hard cock and his fingers twitch. Dean curls his fingers into Cas’, and instead presses himself fully against him, rocking up slowly as he does and listening to the little grunts Cas gives each time.

Dean dips a hand between them, angling himself so he can hold them both in his hand, stroking light, and slow. He leans his head down on Cas’ shoulder and grips an arm around his waist for support, although by that point he’s not sure who he’s supporting more, Cas or himself.

“Can you kneel for me?” he asks, slowly turning Cas around and following him as he does, falling forwards on the bed and landing on his forearms. Cas turns his head a little to look back at Dean, and Dean leans down and over him, biting down softly on the back of Cas’ neck. Cas arches at that, and Dean grins to himself, beginning a trail down the short distance between his neck and the joint at his shoulder blades where the wings are joined.

“Now,” he says, slotting his knees between Cas’ and pushing them apart, “I can’t remember exactly, but these,” indicating to an area that he wants to call a knuckle, “these might be the pin feathers. Maybe they’re a little sensitive as well. Let’s find out,”

And with that, he’s nuzzling, and kissing, and lathing his tongue, to which Cas is stuttering and gasping beneath him. Dean slips his hand round to stroke Cas’ cock for a moment, swirling up the precum from his head on to his thumb, before he’s bringing his hand back round and opening up his hole in time with his kisses.

Cas is helpless, thrusting himself backwards to be impaled on Dean’s fingers, letting out a choked cry as doing that strikes his prostate. He’s giving out an incoherent string of nonsense and that’s just the end of it for Dean, who finds he can’t be anywhere but inside him, and now. He kneels up straight, and sudden, using his thumbs to hold Cas open and then sliding himself right in.

Cas arches back again, letting out the filthiest of groans Dean thinks he’s heard from him. Dropping himself back forward, he thrusts in time with licking over the area between Cas’ shoulder blades, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the way his wings flicker and tense repeatedly.

He’d wanted to make this last, but Cas’ sounds are the final undoing of him, and he’s back up kneeling straight without the slightest conscious thought. He grips hard onto Cas’ hips, taking a breath to steady himself before he loses it completely and starts pounding into him.

Dean’s eyes are on Cas’ wings the entire time, loving the way they seem to be urging him on, preening at his touch, arching and flaring out faster the closer Cas gets to coming.

With the final ounce of restraint he’s got left he stops, buried completely inside Cas and panting, desperate to keep on moving. But he doesn’t, and it’s almost too much the way Cas whines beneath him and his wings give their own ruffle of protest.

Dean holds himself there as long as he is able, and then he’s off again, chasing down that spot in Cas that makes them both curse out and gasp, until Cas is coming untouched beneath him and Dean is emptying himself deep inside Cas, falling forwards and moaning out long, and hard.

When they collapse in a tangled heap, breathless and spent, all Dean can murmur as he randomly pats out a hand against Cas’ side is, “Think I might have a thing for your wings, Cas.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
